


Shiro's Arm

by HowAboutThatSnapback



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Surgery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7540525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowAboutThatSnapback/pseuds/HowAboutThatSnapback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How exactly did Shiro get his arm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiro's Arm

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Voltron or it's characters, simply the plot (unless it turns out to be canon, but we don't know for sure).

Three nights ago he defeated the Gladiator. He’d been isolated from the rest of the group and by now he was getting antsy. There was talk about some sort of “experiment” and that sent chills down his spine.

Shiro has never been a man to really think of himself- he had a habit of putting others before himself- but in this moment he was terrified. What did they have planned?

 _Calm down. Maybe you can escape. Just keep tracking their movements,_  Shiro thought to himself while glaring from between the bars at the guards. He’d lightly tested the durability of the door and it was strong- no way could he knock it down. He’d have to wait for an opportunity when the door was open and attack the unsuspecting guards and make a run for it.

Even that was a shabby plan at best with how well guarded he was.

_I’m gonna die here._

And that scared him.

To die within the Galra empire’s clutches and far from his home was something that made his stomach churn.

He’d never see the clouds drifting across the sky or feel the warm breeze on his skin. He’d never smell freshly cut grass or the salt of the ocean. He’d never taste a home cooked meal made with love.

He’d die here in a place unfamiliar to him with no source of comfort save for the ragged blanket made from what feels like cheap wool.

He shivers and brings the blanket over his shoulders, but that does nothing to warm the chill in his bones.

Cold, hungry, exhausted, afraid, hopeless and injured. He’s at his worst state in this moment.

HIs right arm was crushed by the Gladiator near the end when he fell unconscious on top of him. Shiro did his best to get away, but his right arm was caught under the large beast. Other than being wrapped, nothing’s been done for it.

Even more reason for his escape to be pushed back.

The doors open and his eyes lift up to see the guards finally closing in to put an end to him.

_I’m gonna die. This is it. I’m gonna die here._

He’s grabbed by the scruff and handcuffed immediately before he can get a word out and he’s dragged out.

“No! Let me go!” He shouts while trying to hit them in any way he can.

“ _Stop._ ”

He’s come to know the Galra language quite well with or without a chip in his brain.

As it turns out they put a translator chip in all of the prisoners so that they’d be able to understand majority of languages in the known universe (or at least their known universe) and this not only enables him to _understand_  them, but also enables him to _speak it_  when it’s activated by hearing a particular language.

Even he has to admit that this is an impressive feat when it comes to linguistics technology.

“Let me g-AH!”

His arm is squeezed painfully and he stops resisting and grows quiet.

“Much better.”

Shiro trembles, trying his best to stay composed and keep track of all of the twists and turns they go through so he can find his way… well, wherever he’s going.

They enter a room and there’s an operation table- a familiar one. He writhes in the guards’ grips and he tries to use his leg to push himself away from it, but they slam his back against the cold metal and strap his arms and legs.

“What are you doing to me?!” Shiro demands.

He knows better than to beg to be let go- he knows better and he won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him beg.

A guard pries open his mouth and makes him drink some strange, bitter liquid and his vision begins fading almost immediately…

 

Shiro groans quietly and lifts his left hand to caress his throbbing head out of habit. He’s back in his cell at the moment, but he’s having trouble remembering what happened exactly. He moves to hold his arm- another habit- and jerks his hand away at the cold touch of metal and lack of feeling.

His arm- broken and bruised- had been removed from his body and replaced with some sort of prosthetic.

He lifts up the arm experimentally and it moves about the same as it would if it were his actual arm. he flexes his fingers to test their dexterity and then tries to pick up his blanket and it ends up slipping through his fingers at the overly light grip.

He brushes the fingers of his metal arm against his arm and then holds it and finds that there are light sensors inside of it to allow him to know when he’s touching something. He bangs it against the wall and the only pain he feels is from his shoulder and only a hollow feeling in his arm of a feeling.

He recalls seeing a few guards having these and somethings there was a glowing purple energy. He clenches his hand and promises himself that he’ll escape somehow using this to his advantage.

He just has to figure out how.


End file.
